The Hour of Darkness
by Argentum Vir
Summary: Darkness falls on the wilderness of RuneScape and anyone who isn't prepared will die. One man survived to tell a harrowing tale. (Visit the official RuneScape forums to see the wonderful idea this story is based on.)


**Before we begin, here's a little bit of background, as an RS player, I see cool suggestions all the time on the forums. Sometimes these suggestions hold so much win that they can have a story attached. This particular suggestion is the Hour of Darkness (Quick find code: 185-186-249-62893604 - Look at the idea if you need clarification about this story). Without further ado, I present The Hour of Darkness.**

My name is Argentum Vir. I'm an adventurer, just like you. I'm a Warrior, Mage, and Ranger. I'm a Thief, a Runner, and a PKer. I adventure for the rush, the exhilaration. The place that has provided this the most has always been the Darkness of the Wilderness; The Hour of Darkness. The hour where people not only try to get out, but when they can't, they throw aside their differences and band together. Their will to survive, the feel of being chilled to the bone, It's a rush. If you die, the gods may have pity on your soul. This is a log of the day that changed my life, and almost ended it.

The time came, I got out of bed. I got dressed and put on the most worn set of Rune armor that I had. These had seen me through thick and thin, through hell and back. When I walked out of my door, and visited my clan hall, the beers were already flying at four in the morning.

"Can't you guys get drunk at a decent hour?!" I blustered.

The answer was a resounding, "No!"

Finally one of our elder members came up to me and started to explain, "This is the day we celebrate because we may not come back. It's the day in which we prove ourselves in the Wilderness. The dangers know no bounds, and the evil never sleeps."

Pondering this, I sat down and had some seasoned chicken. Thinking out loud, "If this is so dangerous, then why do you guys never bring any extra supplies?"

The guy next to me said, "We always get out before nightfall."

I let the matter drop, but I resolved to bring a few Magic Logs and a few fishing implements and tender boxes. Being prepared never hurt anyone.

An hour later, the Sun plowed over the horizon and we set out. We all rubbed our enchanted Amulets of Glory and flew through the air into Edgeville. After a last minute bank stop for some extra food, and a few more protection sets, we step into the wilderness. Immediately, we were set upon by the hounds of the green. They were other adventurers seeking our wealth and their fortune. We slew every person that came at us, and took their stuff for later. As we ran towards the ever darkening depths of the Wilderness, the haze thickened and the players disappeared. Every once in a while we would hear a wolf howl, and a shadow snake through the dead trees. We killed everything that got in our way. Soon, the sun dipped into the sky and we started to head back. We were halfway there when we were jumped by a rival clan, and our leader Jimmy fell victim to an Ice barrage. We got into battle formation quickly, but he died before we could help him. As we took revenge, we heard a cry. It wasn't human, and it wasn't beastly. It was like the infernal howl of something from between the planes of hell. The fighting died down as another one of their clan members was dragged away screaming that he didn't want to die, before being silenced. Then, suddenly total darkness fell upon us.

I fell to my hands and knees reaching for the faint glow of the magical logs I had brought. In the dim light, I successfully lite a fire and immediately everyone huddled around the safety of the red and orange flickers. I silently passed around the extra tender boxes and logs, and touched my throat with the finger that had our clan ring. I closed my eyes and telepathically told our skilled members to find some wood and quickly.

A short distance away I saw a fire flare up. It was our rival clan. I took control of the situation since our co-leader had been too drunk to come along. I spoke again to the clan, "I need the fastest runner to get ready. I want you to get a message to our rivals. Ask them if they're okay. Oh, and get the skillers out to find resources. Use light only when in dire need."

After some mild outrage from the clan members I said, "They may be rivals, but right now we are all in the depths of Hell, if we can't band together then we won't survive!" There were no more complaints.

Running as swiftly as he could, Zeon carried the message to the other clan. After a brief intermission, he returned with a message and a ring of clan speak. The message gave permission to enter their clan chat in order to co-ordinate their strategy.

I opened the link and asked, "Are you guys alright?"

They replied, "Yes but we lost our best warrior and ranger in the darkness."

I told them, "Get your skillers to find wood and food as quickly and as quietly as possible. We are not alone and we'll need it." The skillers of both clans got ready as soon as they could and left.

As quickly as they were gone, the silence filled the space. The sound of the fire crackling, the person next to you, those were the things that were real. Your sword, or your bow was your reality check, and the howls became the wake up calls. When the first one came, it was deafening. Not only did it send chills down your spine, but it made the darkness increase in intensity. Just outside the fire's light, you could see the glow of unnatural eyes stare you down, and suddenly they multiplied exponentially. As quickly as they come, they disappear. As they leave, they mess with your mind and emotions.

Suddenly, the sound of battle reached my ears. I put my fingers to my throat and told the ranger next to me, "I'm going in, cover me."

The Ranger readied his bow, and murmured a small prayer and a ripple of energy bust from his eyes. The energy pierced the darkness like a cone of light. As I ran blindly, he saw everything. When I finally reached the where the battle took place, there was a pile of bodies, and the shell of an adventurer. I quickly knelt and said a prayer to Saradomin to guide him to Lumbridge. I ran back and began to cough a little bit of blood up. It looks like even a small amount of time in the darkness can be deadly. I reached the relative safety of the fire, and ate a lobster. I Immediately felt better.

I held my fingers to my throat once again and let everyone know that eating food brings warmth and life back to your body, and I wished the skillers a safe and swift return.

Ten long minutes later, the first skiller returned with more wood, and a strange snappy fish. It smelled great seared on the fire, and tasted great too. We all wondered where he got it because we had never seen one like this before. He then launched into an unbelievable story that most of us blew off because he started to cough up copious amounts of blood. I handed him a lobster, but he suddenly fell over not only stone cold, but dead.

While we said a few prayers, he moved. It was more a twitch at first, but then he got up. Eyes wide open, unseeing. Then he levitated, as he did that, our response was to huddle together back to back weapons drawn. Suddenly he burst into grey flames, silently picking up his dragon hatchet moving slowly towards us. Reacting quickly the rangers filled him with arrows, and the warriors rushed him. Blunt, blade, and bows all had one target, which soon fell without a single word. One of our warriors then rescued his stuff, and rushed back to the fire, which upon his arrival went out.

The only forms of light were the glowing orbs of the mage's staves. Pitch black was threatening to steal your breath at every intake. Suddenly we were rushed. A thin glowing blade appeared in the darkness, and left as quickly as it came. The warrior it went after shrugged it off, and then he broke the silence with a pleading voice to re-light the fire! As he said that he was rushed. Blind monstrous beings began tearing at him in the blink of an eye. I quickly re-lite the fire and the monsters screeched and burst into flames that doused when they left the ambient light. We rushed to our warrior's side. He was badly wounded but he got up and asked for a bit of lobster, which I obliged and gave him the last one I had. He paused for a bit and prayed for the lobster to heal him. He took a bite and his wound healed right before our eyes.

I held my fingers to my throat and told our skillers, "Bring some fish if you can find them, and eat anything you can until you can reach the fire. Also, bring anybody surviving alone out there to our camp and we'll protect each other. We need all the help we can get."

The seconds dragged on into minutes, the minutes into hours, and the hour began to feel like a lifetime. We were all huddled next to the friendly blue flames, both silent, and apprehensive. The ranger next to me had some skill in fletching, as he pulled out a log and started chipping away at it. Passing the time seemed like a good idea, so I took a few runes and cast a spell. Though I didn't release the energy into being, I toyed with it in the palm of my hand. Watching the energy swirl in my palm was strangely calming. So I decided to experiment. I started augmenting the power of my spell. I toyed with Mind runes for accuracy, body for reduction, nature for rooting, cosmic for light, and blood chaos, and death for pure destruction. As I messed with this new found skill, all of our skillers returned. They were all accounted for, and none the worse for wear. We all shook hands and signed our questions as we were too tired to muster up energy for clan chat.

"Did you find supplies for fire and food?", I signed frantically.

They nodded and handed to fish to our cook, and the fuel to our survivalist. Who in no time had a cooking fire up and running with just a bow and elbow grease. Our cook immediately began cooking the fish, the tantalizing smell uplifted our spirits and it seemed to drive some of the darkness and monsters away.

As we sat enjoying the spoils of the wild, the most silent of us all suddenly broke the silence with a whisper, "Do you hear that? Sounds like wing beats, and they're getting closer."

On that note, the fire went out and a roar pierced the silence. The sound came at us like an arrow, and pierced our hearts and souls; it sent shivers down our spines, and shoved a cold fear into the pits of our stomachs.

There was no time to re-light the fire, so I lit the area with a sos and a call to formation. I waved my palms, and created a silver bow of pure energy in my right hand. With my free hand, I channeled pure air into the form of an arrow. Then I waited, and my clan members did the same.

Pitch black surrounded the area. The only light was the glow of magical items, small lamps and crude torches. Though the night was black and seemingly empty, it wasn't quiet. Amid the sounds a wing beat here, a growl there, and a grunt of something unknown. Back to back our clan huddled close. We inched to our rival clan as silently as possible. Then it was silent again. We knew better than to lower our weapons, and when the monsters saw that we weren't backing down, the onslaught started. I felt something grab me. It was slimy, and wet. Out of nowhere two more latched on. I was lucky that I was stout and had some firm footing. So I silently grabbed all three tentacles and prayed to Saradomin to give me strength to pull them to our warriors. With all my might and then some, three formless shapes appeared out of the night. They flew directly into the waiting weapons. With a shudder they disintegrated into the nightmare from whence they came. As more and more came, we not only grew tired, but the black started to have an effect. Suddenly a bonfire appeared not far from us. Our rivals were doing their best to draw us to safety! We all saw it in an instant and we made a beeline for it. One of our warriors suddenly slowed and stopped completely. As I turned to him a spurt of red and orange death consumed him, it spread as if it was a living thing. Giving no second thoughts save regret I crossed the thresh hold into the ring of light, into safety... Or so we thought.

There was a lull in the fighting. The creatures stopped attacking. Perhaps they were afraid of us... That was what I mistakenly thought before the very loud thump which crushed one of the men who was meditating near the edge of the light. Right after which two giant red eyes appeared in the darkness and pierced each of our souls... Then a second pair... Then a third pair! Well, one eye was actually missing; I guess some adventurer was unlucky enough to be within proper gouging range. Then as one, we all rose up and grabbed our weapons at the same time. The fighting that ensued was the most tense and fearsome that had ever graced the wilderness.

We may have had our differences, and we may not have liked each other, but this was one foe we would probably all die to if we didn't work together. The warriors of both sides ran to the front lines, only to find the dragon airborne. So a few of them pulled out their crossbows and donned their spare armor for such occasions. The rest of us barraged and flurried all of the spells, arrows, bolts and furry projectiles we could muster. The dragon finally got so annoyed at us, that it came down with tooth and claw bared. The warriors all bellowed barbaric howls, and ancient god like whisperings. Some of which benefited everyone, and some of which saw the dragon and cursed its true name.

The battle went on until everyone was either exhausted, dead, or both. The only people that remained standing were the clan leaders, Monsita of our rival clan, and me the temporary leader (Also known as The Silver Hero of Rumsfath.) It was beginning to look like I should have drank more beer than I did that morning. It was looked like this was my final hour. The grim situation became more and more bleak as I cast the last spell that I could muster, and Monsita fired a last blessed charge from her crystal bow. As we realized this was our last stand, we faced each other. Feebly clutching our weapons. We beat one last salute and let a roar that even caused our foe to tremble. It was a roar of utter desperation, and a plea that not only pierced the darkness, but as luck would have it, also dispelled it. The sun drew up from its sleep and dispelled the nightmare.

Our small cheers were lost in the vast wilderness. In a moment of joy, Monsita and I embraced. The relief of living to fight another day consumed us and blotted out everything. As a final token of friendship, we vowed never to fight again. To this day we've had some awesome drinking parties at our respective clan halls together.


End file.
